


Edge of the Blade

by Astrarian



Series: Writer's Month, August 2020 [18]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Gen, Memory Alteration, Pre-Canon, She-Ra lineage, Writer's Month 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:39:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25981474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astrarian/pseuds/Astrarian
Summary: Mara takes up the mantle of She-Ra.(Writer's month 2020 - Day 18: myths)
Relationships: Light Hope & Mara (She-Ra)
Series: Writer's Month, August 2020 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861909
Kudos: 7
Collections: Writer's Month 2020





	Edge of the Blade

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Epica's song of the same name.

She wakes up in the infirmary in the Crystal Castle, head pounding. Everything hurts. Everything hurts so much. Around her the walls seem to pulse with dim light, red and black and blue. She’s adrift, adrift in little explosions of pain and light, like stars. Stars of agony.

“Li… Li… Light Hope?” she groans.

“Mara,” says the familiar, distorted voice of the hologram. “You are awake. How do you feel?”

It’s hard to even concentrate beyond the nausea and the headache. But in her swimming vision, a familiar outline of long bright hair and a vivid red cape flows against the star-scattered sky. Magnificent. Powerful. Her enemy.

“I won’t let the First Ones do this to us, Mara!” she declares, expression determined. “I won’t let _you_ do this!”

Mara groans. “She-Ra…”

Mara remembers knocking her into the dirt, her squad shouting triumphantly around her. The brightest blue eyes in the universe stare up at Mara in rage and defiance... in terror.

That terror sears through Mara, like a laser in the dark, slicing her to shreds. The guilt sickens her to her brink.

“I’m… sorry...” she gasps.

Light Hope leans over Mara, eyes glowing, hands outstretched. Everything peels away into darkness.

* * *

When she next wakes, there’s a drum beating incessantly in her temples. She’s in the infirmary in the Crystal Castle.

“Light Hope,” she mutters groggily.

The lighting is low, so low that Mara struggles to see her own feet. Even the brief change in brightness as Light Hope flickers into existence next to her bed is painful.

“Mara,” says Light Hope. “How do you feel?”

“Like someone punched me from the inside out.”

A beat of silence passes as Light Hope processes the statement. “Mara, you were badly injured. Do you have any nausea? A headache?”

Mara licks the inside of her dry mouth. “Headache. No nausea.”

“What do you remember?” Light Hope asks.

Mara tries to think. And the drumbeat in her head intensifies. She sees a flash of platinum blonde hair, hears a shout echo in her ears—

—why are you doing this—Mara, _please_ —!

“I—” she stutters, eyes widening, the drums getting louder and louder behind her eyes. “She-Ra—”

Light Hope moves closer and reaches for Mara’s head. When the edges of the hologram pass through Mara’s skin, pins and needles prickle her all over. Her eyes roll back, and the last thing she thinks of are the vines that burst to life beneath She-Ra’s body where she hit the ground.

* * *

The familiar hum of the Crystal Castle draws Mara to consciousness. She’s in the infirmary. When she shifts, her muscles ache in protest. Her mind supplies her with absolutely no information about how she got here, except a completely different scenario to this one: standing in front of the main console in the Castle looking up at Light Hope.

Feeling disjointed, she calls out. “Light Hope?”

The hologram appears out of thin air beside her. “Mara. I am glad to see you awake. How do you feel?”

“Like I just went six rounds with a bear,” Mara grouches. “What happened?”

“What do you recall?”

“Last thing I remember I was standing in the main room talking to you about She-Ra.” Her stomach flips. “I was fine. Something must have happened. What was it?” She sits up, wincing and going woozy while her blood rushes to compensate for her movement.

“That was days ago,” Light Hope says. “There was an accident.”

Mara’s rushing blood goes cold. “An accident?”

“Yes. When we tested She-Ra’s Runestone, as I feared, there was a surge of magic.”

“A surge?”

Light Hope nods. “Yes. She-Ra was unable to control the raw power unleashed by her Runestone when we fully connected our technology.”

Mara squeezes her eyes closed. “No… Damn it.”

A few moments pass. Tears rise to the corners of her eyes and fall down her cheeks as she builds the courage to ask, “Did she… is she…”

“Mara, I am sorry.” Light Hope moves her hand to hover just above Mara’s shoulder, as if to comfort her, and Mara shivers. “There were casualties.”

“Casualties,” she repeats numbly.

“She-Ra did not survive.”

It hits like a punch in the gut, but so much harder. Mara closes her eyes again, a sob rising in her chest.

“Gone?”

“I am sorry,” Light Hope says quietly.

“She trusted us,” Mara gasps.

Light Hope says nothing.

“Is there—someone else yet?” Mara manages. “Another She-Ra?”

“I have not detected the existence of a new She-Ra.” 

“What will Etheria do without her? Without its protector...” 

As Mara begins to cry, Light Hope says, “I do not know.”

* * *

The sword gleams with a dim, magical light. In the hilt, She-Ra’s turquoise runestone glimmers. Within its depths, Mara thinks she can see magic swirling, like a shadow deep in the ocean. It’s incredible that such a small thing can hold such power.

“Wow,” she breathes. “It’s magnificent.”

“Thank you,” Light Hope says automatically.

“Are you… are you sure it will work safely?”

“I am not one hundred percent certain, Mara. But I am far more confident in this version of the instrument than I was prior to She-Ra’s accident.”

“She wasn’t only She-Ra, Light Hope,” Mara cuts in. “She was a person in her own right, not just a legendary princess. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“I apologise, Mara.”

Mara bites her lip. “I know. I know you do.”

There’s a hint of pressure behind her eyes like always when she thinks about that girl, loss and sadness and so much guilt. She was young, younger than Mara, but she held the weight of protecting her planet and of advocating for her people’s magic on her shoulders with ease.

Accidental as it was, they are responsible for Etheria’s loss. They messed with magical power before they fully understood it, and a girl lost her life. Oh, Light Hope is as sympathetic as she can be—far more so than Mara expected—but in the end, she’s a hologram. Mara carries their terrible mistake on her shoulders for all of the First Ones here, and she bears the brunt of the Etherians’ sorrow.

They’ve waited for a new She-Ra for months. But the magic that runs through the planet doesn’t seem interested in selecting a new princess.

It’s their fault Etheria hangs defenceless in a wide universe filled with enemies that its people can’t even begin to understand, can’t even begin to protect themselves against without She-Ra or the First Ones’ assistance.

It’s only fair that Mara take on the burden of protecting this planet. If she can. If it will accept her. It can’t make up for what they’ve accidentally done, but maybe it will go some of the way.

“Are you ready?” Light Hope asks.

Her hands feel clammy. “No.”

“You are not?” Light Hope sounds uncertain.

“I don’t think I can ever be ready for this,” Mara says. She takes a deep breath, then another, thinking about all of the Etherians she’s met, the life in its forests, the beauty in every flower and stone and child. They need She-Ra. But She-Ra’s gone.

Her fault. Her mistake to atone for.

“I’m ready,” she says, and reaches for the sword.

The world explodes in colour as she touches the runestone.


End file.
